Where the Cold Stayed

[Intro] Streetlamp on wet stone. Breath in the blue. A train line humming where the night cuts through. No voice from the corner. No hand on the rail. Only that hour where the heat already failed. [Verse 1] The block held rain in every seam, stairwell light in a nicotine gleam. Keys in my palm. Hood up high. No one asked, and neither did I. A shopfront blinked, then gave it up. One bus went by with its windows shut. The city kept its jaw set tight— all brick, all wire, all after-light. I had your last words in my coat, wore them heavy at the throat. Not loud enough to turn to sound, just enough to drag me down. [Chorus 1] Where the cold stayed, I stayed too. Long past the hour when the warm things withdrew. Where the cold stayed, under skin, the night let nobody out, but it let me in. [Verse 2] Under the flyover, the concrete sweats. Old gum, old smoke, old silhouettes. A kid in black by the off-licence gate looked through me once, then looked away. Phone light flashed on a cracked-up screen. Blue on the cheekbone, hard and clean. Somewhere a siren cut, then died. Somewhere a door slammed twice inside. Still that line in me kept its ache, fine as wire that will not break. And every step on the soaked-through ground came back colder for the sound. [Chorus 2] Where the cold stayed, it stayed deep. In the blood’s slow corner, under talk, under sleep. Where the cold stayed, nothing bent. Not the dark, not the street, not the thing I meant. [Verse 3] By then I knew it would not pass, not like weather, not like glass. Not with a dawn, not with a train, not with a dry coat after rain. Some hurts don’t blaze. They settle in. They keep good posture. They wear thin. They walk beside you, dressed and plain, and turn your breath to weathered grain. So I kept on through the sodium white, through the underpass, through the bite. The city held its vacant stare. I had the ache. The ache had air. [Solo] [Bridge] If I had shouted, it would have gone small. If I had named it, it would have lied. So I let it live where the night lives best— between the ribs, and under the stride. One bare note. One held line. One dark road taking its time. [Final Chorus] Where the cold stayed, I stood still. Not from peace, not from strength, only will. Where the cold stayed, I came through. Not made whole, not made new. Where the cold stayed, the light thinned. But something in me kept its chin. Where the cold stayed, through the stain, I carried the night and it carried my name. [Outro] Streetlamp on wet stone. Breath in the blue. The city kept walking. So did I.